The Fourth Stall
by Pizzagirl5640
Summary: Sprx, Nova, and Otto are in middle school. They run a business in the East Wing's boy's bathroom. What happen when the biggest problem they have ever face walks into Sprx's office? READ AND FIND OUT!
1. Chapter 1

**Me: OMG! I'M WRITING A PARODY OF THE BOOK THE FOURTH STALL BY CHRIS RYLANDER!**

**Otto: I'm in it?**

**Me: in my version you are!**

**Otto: Oh…**

**Me: I do not own the hyper force or The Fourth Stall by Chris Rylander, I only own this story…**

**The entire thing is Sprx's Pov**

You need something? I can get it for you. You have a problem? I can solve it. That's why they come to me. By "they" I mean every kid in school. First graders up to eighth graders. Everyone comes to me for help, and most of the time, I'm happy to provide it. For a small fee of course.

My office is located in the East Wing boy's bathroom, forth stall from the high window. My office hours are during early recess, lunch, and afternoon recess. Sometimes I do pro bono work. I don't know why free is called pro bono, but it is. If you situation seems important enough, I just may offer my services without the usual fees of money or favors. But that doesn't happen too often. And when it does, it's usually because Otto asks me to.

Otto is my best friend and right-hand man. He's a good guy; in addition to being awesome with numbers he's also the most book smart kid I know, and the best business manager a guy could have. We started this business together, so when he gives me one of those looks that only I know, that says, _Hey, Sprx, you should cut this kid some slack and do this one pro bono,_ I listen to him. I know you shouldn't mix business with your personal life, but we run a tight operation and have been friends since kindergarten.

My real name is SPRX-77 James, but everyone calls me Sprx. Sprx is short for SPRX-77 as you can tell. This eighth grader Billy Benson, called me that once and it just stuck.

Right now you might be wondering how a little brown eyed sixth grader with short red hair could end up with a business like this? And I don't blame you. I hardly believe it myself. It's actually a pretty long story that's probably best left for later. So for now let's just say it involves an old trailer park playground, a vampire, and one angry fourth grader and we'll leave it at that.

Anyways, I mostly handle easy stuff, like getting kids test answers, of forged hall passes and doctor's notes, or video games that their parents won't let them play, but every once in a while something hard comes my way. Like my last client on this particular Monday. His problem was one of the most difficult problems I have ever faced.

I was sitting behind my desk it the fourth stall from the high window. Maybe I should stop here to explain how we fit my desk into the stall. A lot of kids will tell you that the toilet was cleared out years ago due to a huge accident. They say some joker tried to flush a whole box of Black Cats and four cherry bombs down the toilet. Supposedly, the porcelain shards exploded everywhere and severed his arm and he now has a hook for a hand and lives in some institution for kids who think they are pirates.

I know the truth though, because I have connections the other kids don't have. The toilet was removed when some kid figured out Principal Dickerson's bathroom schedule. Apparently, old people use the bathroom at the same time every day, and this kid, Jimmy Snickers, found out that Principal Dickerson used the fourth stall from the high window in the East Wing bathroom every single day at 12:38. Always. Why did he use that exact toilet? Maybe it was because the fourth stall was the biggest stall in the bathroom and had handrails that he needed to use because he was so old? I really have no idea. I know a lot of stuff about this school, but some things are meant to be a mystery.

Anyways, one day during morning recess, Jimmy brought six bottles of industrial superglue into the fourth stall from the high window. Now, Jimmy was a pretty smart kid, so he knew that simply gluing Dickerson's butt cheeks to the seat was not good enough, because the seat could easily be removed with just a simple wrench. Instead he lathered up not only the seat but also the screws and joints holding the seat to the toilet itself. The concoction of glues he created combined with years of build-up pee and rust and gunk bond together like the most stinky, sticky cement ever. Principal Dickerson wasn't going anywhere.

Dickerson didn't yell for help because being found by a student would be embarrassing. So instead, he waited. Eventually the janitor found him at five o'clock that day. Even though at that point Dickerson was really hungry from missing lunch that day, at least he was able to use the toilet. They had called in some plumbers to remove the entire toilet and ship both Dickerson and his new shorts to the hospital where the doctors were able to remove the toilet from Dickerson.

He never ordered a new one because the process of doing so would just bring unwanted attention to the whole mishap. That, and the school had spent most of its money that year buying these cool Nike uniforms for our track team. Then by the following year the kids and teachers probably just forgot about the missing toilet. So, the fourth stall remained toilet-less and became the perfect spot for my new office. Mostly because in was the farthest reaches of the East Wing where there where no classrooms except for a rarely used band room.

The bathroom was also secure and private due to an arrangement I had with the janitor. In fact, he had even giving me a key so I could lock up the bathroom during nonbusiness hours to keep kids from messing with my stuff. Maybe I'll get into that arrangement later, but for now I should probably get back to the story.

So where was I anyway? Oh yeah, Monday. It was lunchtime. I was sitting behind my desk my crew had installed for me. Business had been a little slower that usual the past couple of days, but otherwise it had been just a normal day at the office up to that point. Nova, my strongman, (or in this case my strongwoman) stood outside the bathroom, forming lines and regulating the flow of kids. Only one customer was allowed inside the bathroom at any giving time. Nova also kept out any unwanted company. She was a sixth grader, like me, but was the strongest person at our school and for some reason she was the tallest. She towered other students like an NBA player at a midget convention. No messed with Nova, not even me. But she was loyal, and I compensated her well, and I may or may not have developed a small crush on her over the years.

Nova usher in kid after kid, first come first served. Otto was the only other person other than me and the client in the bathroom when we were seeing costumers. He usually stands outside the stall, where he patted down kids to see if that had any recording devices.

The second to last client of that afternoon was a big football player named Robert Hoveskeland. He looked funny sitting in the small chair in the cramped stall. His knees were almost leveled with his shoulders. I had a good feeling about this kid right away, probably because he was wearing a Chicago Cubs jersey

"What can I do for you, Robert" I asked. "Need more playing time? Less playing time? A girlfriend? Help breaking up with a girlfriend?"

"No, not exactly…" he said

"It has to do with a girl, though, right?"

He nodded and I thought I saw him blush a little.

"I want to take a girl to that new movie _Idiots Doing Stupid Stunts, _but I don't know how to get us in. It's rated R. My dad's a cop and he's obsessed with the whole 'the law is the law' thing, so he won't go for it. Anyways, I already told her I could get us in, so I'm just wondering if you could help me somehow. I don't want her to think I'm a liar."

"I think I can help you, Robert. When were you two planning on going?" I asked.

"Well, I invited her to go Saturday night. This Saturday."

"I need a few moments please," I said.

I saw him shift uncomfortably in the small chair as I looked through my Books. My Books were just a few notebooks that I use to keep records of customers and their request, such as who owed me favors and other stuff like that. I also kept a record of all my connections, like people who could get me stuff that most kids didn't have access to. Such as Otto's older brother, Oscar. We used him to get us stuff only 18 year olds can buy. Otto kept his own Books, too, but his dealt more with how much money we had and who owed us money and other financial stuff like that. I checked my Books for the problem at hand. I knew a guy at the theater who owed me a favor, but he didn't work on Saturday. I hoped Robert would be flexible.

"Okay, Robert, here's the deal: I can get you two in but not on Saturday night. Do you think she'd agree to go Friday instead?"

"Yeah, I think so," he said as he scratched the back of his head.

"Good, just tell her you had to babysit you little brother or something on Saturday; that usually works. Look for a cashier named Derrick: he's tall and has shaggy dark hair. He'll be expecting you. Sound good?"

"Yeah, except that I don't have any little brothers or sisters. So I don't know what-"

"Robert, Robert, Robert. Use you imagination! Tell her you have to go out for your mom's birthday on Saturday or something. It's okay, everyone can tell a little harmless lie once in a while. Right?"

He hesitated. I could tell he was a bad liar.

"Yeah, okay, I can do that. What do I owe you?" he finally said

"Tell you what, I didn't fix your problem perfectly, plus you're a Cubs fan, so we'll do it at a discount. How does five dollars and a discount sound?"

"A favor?" he asked.

"Yeah, there may be a time when I need you help with something. Don't worry, it won't be anything huge. I'm not going to ask you for your kidneys or anything like that."

Robert chuckled, but it sounded a little nervous.

"Sure, sounds good."

"All right, just bring the money by anytime this week."

"Actually, I have it now."

There was no doubt left that this was a good kid. I loved it when customers paid up front. I quickly wrote a note down in my Books that Robert someone to potentially hire in the future. His size could come in handy at some point.

"Great. Give it to Otto before you leave. And just be ready when I need that favor. Thanks Robert."

"Okay, Sprx, thanks," he said and then squeezed out of the stall.

I sat calmly and waited for the next client, not even knowing for a second that he would be the biggest problem to ever step into my office.

**Me: YAYYYY!**

**Sprx: I'd like to know what's going on in that messed up head of yours**

**Otto: Me too…**

**Nova: I think it would be best to leave it alone… SEE YOU NEXT TIME!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Me: YAY! CHAPTER 2**

**Nova: WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG!?**

**Me: My grandma is in the hospital…**

**Nova: Oh….sorry**

Before I tell you about the worst problem I ever faced, I should mention that it was also the worst time ever for it to happen. Because as everybody knows, the bigger a problem is, the more money it costs to solve. And at that moment in time, more than ever before, we needed to make money, not spend it. We were saving up to go to a baseball game. But not just any baseball game. A Chicago Cubs World Series game!

The Cubs are Otto's and my favorite baseball team in the world. We aren't just normal fans either; we are OBSESSED. We're real fanatics, like those crazy European soccer fans. We watch almost every Cubs game on TV and had been planning for years to go to the World Series together if the Cubs ever made it. And we weren't just planning to go to the game like how most people make plans but never actual do them. We were serious. We'd even started a savings account for it, the Game Fund. Well, okay, it wasn't a real savings account like at a bank or something-it was really just a pile of cash that I kept in my closet. But you get the idea.

Otto and I had been saving for a Chicago Cubs World Series game for the past six years. One game might not seem like a big deal, but it was. The Cubs make the playoffs like once every ten years, and they haven't made it to the World Series in almost seventy years, and haven't won one in over hundred, which is the longest a single team has sucked in all of sports history. So if we ever got to see a World Series game in person at Shuggazoom Field, it would be pretty rare. An once-in-a-lifetime chance, basically.

But get this: They are actually good this year! Really good. They are already in the play-offs and are just one win away for sweeping the Dodgers in the first round. I have a feeling that this is the year we'll finally get our chance.

That's why we're trying hard to add as much as possible to the Fund. Getting Cubs World Series tickets will be expensive. Every Cubs fan on Shuggazoom would want to go to that game, since basically nobody alive has ever seen a Cubs World Series game before. The tickets would probably have to be purchased through this scalper website because play-off tickests sold out from the real box office in like three minutes flat, so World Series tickets would probably go in under four seconds. They would probably cost at least a couple thousand dollars each, even for nosebleed seats.

We also need to save money to but the awesome seven-dollar hot dogs, six-dollar sodas, souvenirs, and other stuff like that. Plus we'd need Otto's older brother, Oscar, to take us, which meant we'd have to pay for the gas it would take to drive us there. It's only a few hours away, but gas is expensive. Oscar's a cool guy, but he'd never do that kind of stuff for free, not even for his little brother.

So it's more important than ever to keep out money flowing in. Like I said, the Cubs, are actually good this year, which is shocking to everyone who knows anything about baseball. If everything goes well and they keep winning, their first appearance in a World Series game in over seventy years is just a few weeks away. We're already so excited that is sometimes feels like pure sugar is being pumped into our veins through an IV, like you see in hospitals. I've never looked forward to anything as much as this. Not ever. Not even when my parents took me to Disney World when I was ten.

The problem is that we don't have quite enough money yet. So at that moment every last penny really mattered, making it a horrible time for trouble to just waltz into my office like it did. Well, I guess it didn't so much waltz as it did stumble, but you get the idea.

I heard my last customer of that afternoon shuffle through the bathroom door, his feet reluctantly scrapping the floor as if he was being prodded by a stick. I heard Otto pat him down and say, "Hey, kid, you need to relax. No one's gonna hurt you, okay?"

The stall opened and a young kid entered. He was a white monkey, but his eyes were bloodshot. His hands shook as he reached out for the chair. Then he stopped and looks at me. He was asking for permission.

I nodded my head at him and he sat down. He couldn't have been more than a third grader. He looked at the stall's wall to his right, eyeing the ancient graffiti. Middle school cave drawings are how I always think of them. I've spent a lot of my time myself looking at the writings. There were classics like "GaRy wuz HeeR" and "Mr JensEN SUX" and "Mitch 3 JuLie," but there were also a few weird ones like "I WISH I WAS A PEACE OF CHEESE" and "Jason J fly's kites at NitE" and "i eaT what i am."

"What's your name?" I asked, turning my attention back to the customer.

His head snapped toward me as if I had screamed at him. His eyes were big and brimming with tears. He looked like a deer staring into the bright doom of oncoming headlights.

"My name? Oh, it's aah…uuh, my name is, ummm, Fred!"

I studied him for a moment. He squirmed nervously.

"Okay, Fred, what do you need help with?"

Well, it's uh…it's, umm, complicated. He's after me, Sprx, and I don't really know where to start, I'm in so much trouble, it's just a mess, it's uh, it's just so….oh man, I guess-"

"Fred."

He stopped the chattering the instant I said his name. He looked up at me with his frightened doe eyes. This kid was making me nervous. I don't like being nervous.

"Look, Fred, relax and slow down. I'm having a coronary over here just watching you. Take a deep breath. I can't help you if I don't understand what you are saying. Okay?"

Fred breathed deeply and nodded. He still looked scared.

"Okay, Fred, let's start with who is after you."

"Rider."

I hoped Fred couldn't see my shock. That couldn't be right.

Rider? Rider wasn't even supposed to exist. The legend of Rider has been spread throughout the town practically since the beginning of time. According to the most often repeated stories, Rider was this kid who dropped out of school after the third grade and never went back. His age always varies from story to story, but it was generally agreed that he was now between fourteen and twenty. Some kids claimed that he could do forty pull ups with two seventh graders dangling from each leg. Others say he can pop a tetherball with one hand. He also supposedly ran a mile in under six minutes and was smarter than Albert Einstein and some other smart guy combined!

According to the legends, Rider had an intricate web of connections that spread throughout almost every high school, elementary school, and middle school in the city. He was even rumored to have people in the police department! He was untouchable.

They say he used his network to operate an illegal gambling ring. He'd take bets for pro sporting events like football and baseball games, but he mostly took them for local middle school and high school sports games. He also fixed the games. That is, he paid kids to lose on purpose. To miss free throws and easy layups in basketball and fumble the ball in football games and stuff like that.

Some of the rumors even say that Rider is to blame for the Cubs being terrible for so long. I heard some kid say once that Rider was the one who paid Mark Prior and Kerry Wood to fake injuries their whole careers.

And that was the problem with what Fred was telling me. Rider couldn't be real. No way. I'd never encountered anyone who had actually seen Rider or claimed to have gambled through his network. And even if he did exist, there's no way his business could have spread here. I would have known about it. I knew everything about this school.

I rubbed my eyes and then addressed Fred.

"The Rider?"

Fred nodded and then looked at the floor.

"How can you be sure?" I asked.

"Because I work for him," Fred said, sill looking at the ground. "I use to take bets for him here."

Then he stated crying.

I sighed. "Otto?" I said loudly so he could hear me outside the stall. "You want to join us?"

A few moments later the door opened and Otto stepped in. Fred seemed too busy rubbing his eyes to notice. Normally nobody sat in the stall but me and the customer. But I made exceptions when stuff like this came around. Things as major as the revelation of the existence of a force like Rider. And Otto was the only person I made an exception for.

Otto gave me a look as he leaned against the stall's wall beside my desk. He must have heard enough from the outside to know what was going on. Otto was the master of giving a simple look that could say a lot.

"I don't gamble myself," Fred finally continued. "I don't even know how it really works. But plenty of kids my age do, I'd take their money and stuff and then give them their winnings if they ever did win, which was almost never. The legends are true. You know?"

"How long has he been operating here?" I asked.

"ummmmm…like three or four weeks or something." Fred said.

"Why now?" Otto asked.

Fred glanced at Otto as if noticing him for the first time.

"He always said that grade school are tougher to break into because it's hard finding kids to work for him…" Fred said.

"How did you get recruited, then?" I asked.

Fred shook his head. "My brother works for him at the high school in the center of Shuggazoom. He talked me into it. I was too scared to refuse."

A brief silence followed. The shock of Rider's existence was starting to catch up with me. Especially the shock over how long it had taken me to find out that he really exists.

"Why is Rider after you, Fred?" Otto finally asked.

Fred lowered his head and bit his lip. He looked terrified, as if the very mention of why he's being targeted could get him in trouble.

"Because I tried to leave. I told him I didn't want to take bets anymore and he told me that it was too late. He said nobody quiets. And I said if you didn't let me go, then I will tell Principal Dickerson what's been going on around here. And he said that if I tell then I would be a rat and rats get the worst punishment of all. He said I would have to eat out of a straw after he was done with me. I've seen what he does to people Sprx, and I-"

"Hang on, Fred! Why exactly did you want to quiet?" I asked.

"Because it's not right, what he does. He's been paying kids to lose on purpose. Remember last Thursday when Tom dropped that really easy touchdown at the end of the game and we lost? Rider paid him to make sure we lost that game. He made a fortune on that one! Lately he's been kids make bets even if they don't have the money. And…and then if they lose their bets, he's been sending the Collector after them to get the money. But the kids don't usually have the money, so instead they've been getting beat up real bad and the Collector steals their iPods and phones and stuff like that. And then they're told that if they squel, then they'llreally be in trouble-and one time Rider even threatened to kill this kid's dog. I just can't work for him anymore; the things I've seen…they give me nightmares." He was finished, and I could tell that he was fighting back more tears.

"It's ok, Fred. You did the right thing," I said.

That was no way to run a business. I mean, sure, I've had my share of deadbeat customers who never came through on their end of the bargain, whether it be repaying with a favor or making full payment. But I'd never rectify it by sending out some crazy guy to rough them up! That just wasn't good business. There were other ways; I had my own method of dealing with welchers, and it had worked just fine for me. In grade school there are bigger things than getting beat up.

"Who is this Collector?" Otto asked.

Fred shook his head. "He's a mean guy. He's an eighth grader, and I think his name is Willis or something like that."

I nodded and rubbed my chin. I knew who Fred was talking about: Barnaby Willis. He was new here; he'd transferred from somewhere up north about a week ago. When I first saw him, I thought he might be trouble just because of his size and the way he always strutted around like some tough gut. But so far nobody had complained about him. And I'd heard from other eight graders that he wasn't much of a troublemaker. Either they'd been too scared to tell the truth or Willis had lying low while helping Rider get established. I looked at Otto. We both know what this meant.

"You need protection, then?" I asked.

"Yeah, I guess, I…I didn't know where else to go. My parents would just go to the principal, but I can't let them do that."

"I understand, Fred. I want to help because you seem like a good kid, but I have a pretty strict policy on payment. The only kids who get freebies are the innocent ones. You're not exactly squeaky clean on this whole thing, you understand?" I said.

Fred nodded. I felt bad to take such a hard line. But with the Cubs game just a few weeks away I couldn't afford to just hand out my services for free to every customer who cried. I glanced at Otto. He gave me a slight nod. Like I said before, it seemed like he was more willing to help out this kid with no charge. Which was kind of funny, considering he was usually the one stressing about our money flow. But either way it was nice to get his approval to charge Fred for our services.

"So?" I asked Fred after a few moments.

"Well, I still have like twenty dollars left from my last payday. Is that enough?"

"Sure, that'll be fine, for a few days at least. This could get pretty dangerous, though, so I may require more later on," I said.

Fred nodded and sniffled

"Its okay, Fred. We'll protect you."

I leaned back in my chair and looked at Otto again. We both knew this might be bigger than a simple protection job. Had business been slow lately because of Rider? Whatever the reason, I knew I had to focus on trying to protect Fred for now. First things first. I need to eat a sandwich and think about how I'll be able to protect a little kid from a monster like Rider…

**Me: YAYYYY! CHAPTER 2 IS DONE!**

**Sprx: Why am I eating a sandwich?**

**Me: Because I really want a sandwich right now…**

**Otto: I want one too!**

**Nova: You just had one… you can have one NEXT TIME!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Me: YAYYYYY! CHAPTER 3!**

**Sprx: Can I ever get a break?**

**Otto: Can I have my sandwich now?**

**Nova: IF YOU BE GOOD…THEN MAYBE!  
**

"You really think it's true?" Otto asked after Fred left.

He tossed a baseball in the air and caught it. Otto was always playing around with a baseball. Some of the best ideas we ever came up with happened while we were just tossing a baseball back and forth.

I nodded. "Didn't you see this kid? He was terrified!"

Otto pondered the situation for a bit longer. "This is a real dilemma. It's like that one time that I wanted barbecue chicken but I couldn't have it because I decided to be a vegetarian for two weeks to see what it was like to be a giraffe."

Nova and I laughed. Otto has this way of making me laugh at the most serious times. It's part of why I love him so much. (as a friend -_- I know what you were thinking) And the things he says usually don't make sense because he knows about everything in the universe. So, nobody usually knows what the heck he's talking about!

After Fred explained his problem to me, I had Nova post a sign on the bathroom that said the office was closed for the day. Well, the sign didn't actually say that exactly. It really said "Caution: Wet Floor," but all kids know that is code for "closed for the afternoon." If we put up the sign that says "Closed for Pluming Repairs," then the students know that the office is closed until further notice, which might be several days. I hated closing early. It meant disappointed students and lost money-which was not good for our Game Fund, Right now, though, we needed to think. We sat on folding chairs in the bathroom, eating lunches that my mom had packed for us. My mom made lunches for the three of us almost every day. She always likes to make food for my friends. She was cool like that.

We were supposed to be strategizing, but we mostly chewed and kept saying how much trouble we were in.

Now, you have to understand, I'm not usually afraid of much. I own this school. But if all the rumors about Rider were true, then we were dealing with one dangerous guy. And the last thing I needed was a kid that dangerous to have it in for me before I even had a plan for how to handle him. I needed to think of a way to protect Fred without revealing who was doing it.

"So?" Otto asked. He had been watching me think.

"Let me worry about it. You just make sure that Brad sticks to Fred like gum to the bottom of a desk."

Brad was this third grader who did odd jobs for me sometimes. He happened to be in the same class as Fred, so we decided to pay him a dollar a day to keep an eye on Fred during class and especially in the halls between recessed and lunch.

There are teachers who monitor the halls, but I've found over the years that most teachers are pretty clueless when it comes to how things work among kids. They are never around when the REAL stuff goes down.

"What about at recess? Who's going to protect Fred then?" Otto asked.

"We'll have to hire more help, right, Sprx?" Nova asked. I always blushed when she asked me stuff for some reason.

Otto gave her a look. He didn't like the idea of hiring more help because it would be expensive. I don't like to say no to Nova, but the more money we spent on this stuff, the less money we we'd be able to put in the Game Fund. Otto was always worried about our profit margin.

"She's right, Otto," I said. "We need to hire an older kid to watch over Fred during lunch and recess. We've got to keep the office open, and that's when he'll be most vulnerable. Brady isn't big enough to do it on his own."

"I know we need help, Sprx," Otto said as he tossed me the baseball, "but we'd have to get a seventh grader at least. Do you know how much that will cost us?"

I caught the ball and nodded. He was right, but what else could we do? I felt the stitching and then spread two fingers across the ball like I was going to throw a splitter.

"We may have to dip into the Emergency Fund," I said, throwing the ball back. The Emergency Fund is a pile of money that I started a few years ago. I keep it in my closet right next to the Game Fund, and it's there in case we are ever in a pinch and need some cash.

Otto caught the ball and shook his head. "But that's only for REAL emergencies, like if I need an ice cream really bad and I don't have any spare change. Or if I lose a video baseball game because my dumb third baseman makes and error and I get so mad that I throw my whole gaming console right out my window and it smashes the windshield of my mom's car," he said.

I smirked in spite of myself. Even now, when he was genuinely concerned about our money supply, Otto was still joking around.

"If we get to the point where we actually have to use the Emergency Fund, then….well, then this whole situation probably WILL be an emergency," I said.

"Actually, I just got an idea for this Fred situation that might help save some money," Otto said.

That's one reason Otto is such a great business partner-he always comes up with great ways to save money and pinch pennies, thrifty ways to solve tough problems. I mean, sure, his jokes are fun, too, but I'd trade those in any day for his smart ideas.

"Let's hear it," I said.

"Well, we could let him hang out in here until we find someone to do it for cheap. That would keep him safe and it would be free," he said

"Nice, Otto," I said. "But won't that let people know that we're involved?"

"Maybe, but kids are going to find out eventually either way. We'll just make sure we get him here as soon as possible each recess and lunch and hope that too many kids don't notice."

"All right, let's plan to do that for now, but I don't want anything to interfere with normal business long term. We eventually need to find someone else. We need to keep things running smoothly," I said.

Otto nodded. "It's like my grandma said once. 'When the coin purse is empty, the pocket lint is king,'" he said after a moment of silence.

We all looked at him and then burst out laughing.

Otto's grandma is senile. She is a hundred and five years old or something like that, and she is always saying stuff that doesn't make any sense at all. Most of Otto's family looks at each other uncomfortably when she does that, but Otto loves it. He writes down all the stuff she says in a quote book. Otto loves to quote his grandma. Which I usually find pretty funny.

After a few more minutes of discussion we decided to hire a kid named Tanner down the line to look after Fred during lunch and recess long-term, if things went longer than expected. Tanner is a pretty tough seventh grader, and Nova said we could trust him and I trust Nova when she says we can trust him. Nova was going to tell him to meet me here tomorrow during lunch.

This was shaping up to be a pretty tough case, but the one thing I actually thought I had was the element of surprise. Rider didn't know yet that Fred had this kind of protection. Something I learned long ago from watching tons of action movies and playing video games is that having the element of surprise is huge. It's one of the best things to have.

That's why it really sucked that I didn't actually have it. Not at all! We soon found out that Rider somehow knew I was protecting Fred right from the start. Kids usually didn't get the drop on me. But then, Rider wasn't you usual kid.

**Me: YAYYYYYY! CHAPTER 3 IS DONE!  
Otto: and I finally got my sandwich!**

**Sprx: NO ONE CARES!  
Nova: I care…**

**Sprx: Oh….**


	4. Chapter 4

**Me: Hello! Welcome to chapter 4!**

**Sprx: This story is scaring me…**

**Nova: -_- and she's not?**

**Me: *pulls out hammer***

**Sprx: O.O Please don't hurt me…**

**Me: Okay! Just because you're Sprx!**

The first sign that somebody had the drop on us came the next morning before school. I went a little early so I could stop by my office to make a few notes in my Books. I unlocked the door to the bathroom and turned on the lights, and was in the process of shutting the door so I could lock it when it was pushed back open. The force on the other side was so hard it knocked me backward onto the floor of the bathroom. I sat up and saw the assailant over me in the doorway. It was Barnaby Willis, a.k.a the Collector.

"Hey, look at what I found," he said with a slight accent. He talked like a wiseguy from some New York gangster movie.

He isn't as big as I had thought, but I'm the smallest sixth grader in the school, so I still didn't stand a chance either way. He wore cargo shorts and a black T-shirt. A small gold cross hung from a neck that supported a grey face with yellow eyes and gelled back hair.

I scooted back and tried to get to my feet but he was too quick. He stepped forward and pressed his foot onto my chest, pinning me to the floor. My lungs felt like a deflating whoopee cushion, only without any laughs.

"Oh no you don't," he said.

I grabbed his foot and tried to lift it, but that only made him press down harder, so I let go.

"So," he said as if he was starting a conversation with an old friend, "I hear that you're harboring a fugitive?

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said as calmly as I could. It was always best at these times to remain calm.

"Oh, you don't? Oh, my bad. Sorry about that, sir. I guess I got the wrong guy. Here, I'll help you up," he said, faking like he was going to help me up.

I just lay there, trying to come up with a plan to get out of this.

"HA! Just kidding," he said, laughing at his stupid joke.

I felt myself panic. Nova usually didn't stop by here in the morning. Neither did Otto. Heck, I usually didn't either. I didn't really stand a chance against this kid by myself and nobody would be coming by to help me.

"Did you know that in most states harboring a fugitive is considered as a serious crime?" Willis asked with a playful grin.

"Wow! I didn't know that. Tell me ALL about it," I said with a mocking air of wonder in my voice.

"Hey! Don't be a smart guy! You're in no position to talk to me like that," he said, pressing his foot down a little harder to make his point.

"Okay," I managed to squeeze out.

"Anyways, like I was saying, your little buddy Fred has threatened to rat out some very important people. Which is a pretty serious offense, as I'm sure you know. And as long as you're helping him, you're in just as much trouble as he is. Understand?" he said.

"Not really," I grunted, even though I understood completely. It was getting harder to breathe under his foot.

He laughed.

"That's too bad, Sprx," he said as he leaned in closer. I saw his fist go back and I braced myself for the blow. I had no idea what to expect because I'd never been punched before. Maybe a few times by Nova but it wasn't really too hard. Probably because she didn't want to hurt me to bad. I waited, and waited, but the blow never came.

The bathroom door opened and the suddenly the pressure on my chest was gone. I sat up and saw Otto standing in the doorway. His mouth was open and he probably looked more scared then I did.

Willis stood up and looked at Otto, seeming nervous for the first time.

"What's going on?" Otto asked.

I almost had to stifle a laugh. That's was all Otto could think to say? He has never been good at confutations. But it didn't matter. Otto's mere presence seemed to be enough.

While Willis probably could have taken on both Otto and me in a fight, he didn't even try. He just pushed past Otto and ran out the door. But then, something told me he had been there only to send us a message anyway, and the message had been delivered.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Otto asked.

"I'm fine, thanks to you," I said "He was just waiting for me, I guess. He jumped me before I could lock the door. He was basically threating me for helping Fred. What are you doing here anyway?" I asked.

Otto looked at the floor and shrugged. I waited for an actual explanation.

When he realized a shrug wasn't enough, he said, "I was just stopping by to go over our finances."

I nodded. Otto had been spending a little more time at the office than usual lately. He must have been getting pretty nervous about the Cubs possibly making it all the way this year, and us being able to get to a game. I know I was.

"Well, thanks," I said. "I hate to think how that might have ended had you not shown up."

"How did he know that we're helping Fred?" Otto asked.

I shook my head. Though after some thought the answer was pretty obvious. If Rider had employees all over the school, one was bound to have seen Fred in line here yesterday and then just put two and two together.

We'd just have to be more careful from now on. Now that Rider knew I was trying to protect Fred, we were all going to be targets. Which meant I really needed to get more information on Rider and his business. I didn't like the idea that he knew more about what I was doing than I did about him. For all we knew Nova, Otto and I were the last three kids not working for Rider. The more I learned about this whole mess, the more I realize that it might end up being much more than a simple case of playing bodyguard for a third grader.

That was the first order of business later that day during morning recess: getting as much information as I could on Rider and how his operation worked at my school. I needed to know what we were up against. This was becoming a pretty serious situation, so I reluctantly had Nova hang the "Closed for Plumbing Repairs" sign on the door.

When Fred showed up, Otto went out to take care of some business from earlier in the week and I sent Brad and Nova with him for protection. Otto was pretty big-he was almost half a foot taller and thirty pounds heavier than me-but he wasn't much of a fighter and as I've said before, he had never been very good at confrontations. I locked the office after they left and sat down to talk to Fred.

"Okay, Fred, let's start with all the kids you know who work for Rider besides Barnaby," I said.

"I don't remember hardly anyone, and I don't know all their names," he said.

"It's okay, Fred; just tell me what you CAN remember."

"Okay, ummm, well, when I saw Rider, he usually was with like maybe three or four other kids. They're all in high school, except Rider, of course-he doesn't go to school. One of them is PJ. He's got short spiky hair and I think he plays hockey and baseball. He's a real jerk, too. He's always making fun of everybody. I don't really know the names of the other ones, but they're all pretty tough. Two of them wear grungy clothes all the time and they have tattoos and stuff like that."

Great. Just great. Rider had a posse of high school kids and all I had was a few seventh graders if I was lucky. I tried not to let my concern show.

"Go on," I said.

"Well, umm, I only ever met Rider a couple times, but the times I did were at his house. Well, not like inside his house. He has a shed or something that he uses for his office. I don't even know if he's got parents; I mean, his office was pretty dirty. I bet he doesn't parents."

I nodded. Bad kid with a bad home life. That isn't unusual, at least not according to TV shows I've seen. Getting to a kid outside of the school system was going to be tough, mostly because there were even fewer rules out there.

"Where is his house, Fred?" I asked.

"I don't know. They always blindfolded me until I was inside. I don't think anybody knows where he lives except for those four high school kids."

"Okay, what about here at my school? How does his business work here?" I asked.

"Well, I don't remember a lot of stuff, but I think I heard Rider say once that there were ten bookies including me. We all had out own spots where we went every recess, and then kids came to us to place bets. My spot was by the slide in the grade school playground."

"How many different kids do you think have placed bets so far?"

"I don't know, Sprx. Probably like one fourth of all the kids here, but I'm not too sure about that- I'm really bad at fractions. But I do know that Rider almost ALWAYS finds a way to make sure that most kids lose their bets," Fred said proudly, as if that was the most valuable piece of information I could get.

I nodded and smile at him, but it was obvious that I was already losing control. How could this have been happing without me knowing? Suddenly I felt like I had no power. It felt kind of like when we all went to race go-karts and I had the slowest car. No matter how well I drove, I'd never win because my stupid car just couldn't keep up. I hated that feeling.

"Who are the other bookies, Fred?"

"Okay…uh, well, there's Jack attack-he's stationed by the merry-go-round and then there's Anna and Darrick, but I don't know where they're stationed, and…umm….I guess I don't know where the rest are. I'm sorry, Sprx. Jack attack was pretty much the only bookie I ever talked to. He was my main contact."

"What about the leader? There has to be somebody in charge here, right? I mean, Rider can't run the whole operation from outside the school, can he?"

"Umm, I don't know. I think Rider does have, like, a top guy here or whatever, but I don't know who it is. It's not the Collector, I know that. He's just muscle. I always just give my money and bets and stuff to Jack Attack."

"It's okay, you did good, Fred. Real good." I patted him on the shoulder.

But there was still a lot I needed to learn. First and foremost, I had to find out who Rider's top guy at my school was. Second, I needed to know the identities of all the bookies. The way things were going, it could've been anyone. I didn't like thinking that I couldn't trust my classmates. It was a horrible feeling to have, especially when running a business like mine.

**Me: Hope you liked Chapter 4!**

**Otto: NO! I ONLY LIKE COOKIES!**

**Nova: -_- I should punch you.**

**Otto: AH! *Starts running away***


End file.
